


One Hell of a Woman

by say_lene



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-11-02 03:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10936023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/say_lene/pseuds/say_lene
Summary: A collection of my tumblr prompt responses for f!Ryder/Reyes. One chapter per prompt, posted in order of filling.Marked complete, but may be added to in future.





	1. Mornings on Kadara

Mornings on Kadara are slow. Sara’s been up for hours, wasting away the time on her perch by the window - and the boredom’s driving her crazy. Still, she doesn’t have the heart to wake Reyes yet. He’s pure dichotomy in bed; sexy or adorable, and nothing in between. Right now, he’s definitely the former.

Sprawled out on the greying sheets, he looks a little like something out of one of those ‘artistic’ photobooks that Sara definitely doesn’t own. He’s lying half on his side and half on his stomach, one arm thrown out to the side and the other hooked over the pillow. The top sheet’s not quite covering his ass, and Sara’s not ashamed to admit that her gaze lingers a little. His hair’s fallen down over his forehead and his face is tucked into the pillow, but Sara has no doubt that he’s still asleep. She can hear him snoring softly.

Screw it. It’s got to be almost midday.

The sunlight’s shades of pale gold, and it paints his skin in brilliant copper when she pulls back the blinds. Reyes groans - irritably - and buries his face in the pillow.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he mutters.

Sara’s surprised. She’s still stark naked, and Reyes is usually all about that - but she quickly realizes what’s wrong. She smiles, and she’s sure he can hear it in her voice.

“You caught me,” she says smoothly, padding silently across the floor. “I lead a double-life as an intergalactic assassin, and my weapon of choice is a hangover.”

Reyes groans again. “You know I adore you, Sara - but your jokes aren’t funny.”

She chuckles quietly. She’s close enough now to drag a finger along the back of his thigh as she joins him on the bed - but it doesn’t earn her the reaction she wants. He squirms away, rolling over to face away from her and bury his face in the pillow again.

Sara suppresses a sigh, but she does roll her eyes. “You didn’t have  _that_  much to drink.”

“What, were you counting?” His voice is muffled - but definitely grumpy.

“No.” Sara sits down beside him, leaning against the headboard and trailing her fingers over his back. She can feel his muscles relaxing as she maps the valley between his shoulder blades. “But I was keeping up.”

“We’re not all twenty-two,” he grumbles - and Sara has to choke down a smug giggle.

“Good point. You're  _ancient_.”

That gets a rise out of him. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, glowering at her from beneath that adorable tumble of hair. “I got into a fight with the last woman that said that to me.”

Sara brushes his hair back from his forehead, trying not to coo when his eyelids flutter at her touch. “You don’t start fights, Reyes.”

“No, I don’t. She was a little upset when I went home with her boyfriend.”

Sara laughs, leaning down to plant a kiss on his mouth. He smiles, parting his lips to kiss her deeper - then groans, collapsing back onto the pillow.

“I take it all back. I am ancient. Let me sleep,  _please_.”

Sara is torn. They don’t get to do this often - in fact, they hardly get to do this at all. It’s rare that things are quiet enough for them both to hide away from the galaxy, and the last thing Sara wants to do with the time is lie around waiting for Reyes to crawl out of bed.

“Give me a chance to change your mind?”

“I’m immune to you today,” Reyes mutters, and Sara almost believes him. He looks so miserable, cheek scrunched up against the crumpled pillowcase.

“We’ll see.”

Sara clambers over him, ignoring his grumbled protests. She scans the floor like a meerkat perched on a hill - and then she spots it. Scooting off the bed, she snatches his grey undershirt up from the floor.

She’s never had a boyfriend who could resist this.

It’s too big for her, which gives her the chance to tug it off one shoulder and adjust the fall of the cotton. The hem ends up sitting just below the tops of her thighs - and Sara figures that’s just about perfect. It smells like him, too, which is definitely a bonus.

She crosses back to the bed with feet that almost slide across the floor. For a moment, she really thinks he might have fallen asleep again, because his eyes are closed and his chest is rising and falling a little too steadily - but he cracks an eye open when he feels her weight on the edge of the mattress.

Then he cracks the other eye open. “Is that my shirt?”

Sara winks at him. “Do you like it?”

“The shirt, or what’s under it?”

“You know the answer to that.” She leans in to kiss him again, grinning when he eagerly returns it. He rolls over onto his back, one hand sliding up and under the cotton -

“This doesn’t mean you win,” Reyes whispers into her mouth.

Sara laughs. “That’s weird. Sure feels like I do.”


	2. Snowdrift

Reyes had never been to Voeld before, and he didn’t think he’d ever been this cold. There was cryo, of course, but he hadn’t really felt that. There was also that one terrifying suit breach back in training, and _that_ was an experience he never wanted to repeat - but it wasn’t really comparable. The cold up here wasn’t sharp or fleeting. It was dense. It was pervasive. It made his limbs feel heavy, like there were icicles hanging from his sleeves. Still, it was a pleasant kind of cold. It made his heart beat faster to make up the difference. He had a helmet on, but his lips still felt a little numb.

Sara was barely visible through the haze of whirling snow, but she was somewhere above him. If he squinted up the mountainside, he could see her clinging to the slope. _Slope_ was putting it mildly, though. It looked like they were climbing up the side of a fucking world.

How had she talked him into this?

She twisted around to wave at him - and Reyes’ heart lurched up into his mouth when she wobbled on her perch. She caught herself, though, and Reyes could hear her laughing through the comm in his helmet.

“You’re crazy!”

Sara gave an exaggerated shrug - and removed both hands from the rock she’d been clutching. Reyes was sure his heart was going to give out right here. Maybe he’d fall off the mountainside and finally find out what was so great about a jump jet.

“No hands,” Sara said cheerily. She waved them both in the air - and if Reyes could have seen her face through her helmet, he’d have definitely found her grinning. “You doing okay down there?”

“Just fine,” he grumbled. He was trying not to look down. He stretched for his next handhold, carefully checking its stability before he hauled himself up higher. This wasn’t rock-climbing, precisely, but it was close enough. Reyes didn’t want to find out how this would go without something to hold onto. “What about you? Want me to take a turn carrying those things?”

“Nah.” Sara turned back around and gave her hips a wriggle, shaking the two bundles of hardened polymer slats that were strapped across her shoulders. “I’m good. Scott and I used to take turns carrying them, and Dad’s weighed a _ton_.”

“Yours was an awfully _athletic_ family, wasn’t it?”

Sara chuckled - or maybe she just exhaled loudly. Reyes hadn’t yet sorted through which parts of Sara’s family life were still sore to the touch. This seemed to be one of those memories she hadn’t made up her own mind about, either. She turned her back and reached for another rock.

“We’re nearly there,” she breathed into the comm. “We’ll rest at the top.”

“You can’t mean the _top_.” Reyes was aghast. “That is a very tall peak, Sara. I can’t even see it from down here.”

She did laugh, this time; full-throated and gleeful. “Not the _top_ top. See that slope?” She pointed with her left hand, and Reyes followed the line of her arm to an outcropping about twenty metres higher up. It was a steep approach from where they were, but it gave way to a smooth slope on its western side. “We’ll go from there.”

Reyes barely made it. He’d always thought he was in pretty good shape, but the Pathfinder’s lifestyle was turning out to be more than he was ready for. Sara had made this little trip to Voeld sound much more romantic and much less exhausting than it had been so far, and Reyes’ legs were wobbling when he finally clambered up onto the ledge she’d pointed out. She grabbed his forearm to help him up the final few steps, tumbling back onto her haunches when he was finally kneeling beside her.

Sara tugged off her helmet and plonked it onto the ground. Her hair spilled across the rock, picking up snowflakes as it went. Her cheeks were red. She was grinning, but she was breathing hard - and that helped with Reyes’ embarrassment when he lay down flat on his face. He pulled his helmet off and lobbed it into the snowdrift behind them.

“ _Shit_.”

Sara laughed, the pitch climbing steadily. Her voice turned breathy as she tugged on Reyes’ arm. “Look,” she urged him. “Look.”

Reyes grumbled as he picked himself up - but in the end, he was glad he obeyed.

The snowfields spread out below them like a sea of melted stars. Ice, snow, rock, sky; they were everywhere and nowhere, wrapped in an orb of pale blue and white. The sun blazed high above them, brilliant but somehow cold, its pale light bathing everything in a piercing, peaceful glow. Reyes felt his mouth fall open. He forgot the cold. He forgot the wind. He forgot the ache in his muscles and the sweat on his skin.

“Wow.”

Sara beamed at him, her hand snaking down his arm. Their gloves made it difficult, but she twined her fingers through his. “Your mouth is open.”

“I know.”

She turned his face to hers and kissed him, teasing his lower lip between her teeth. Reyes could taste ice water on her lips. “Thank you for coming with me. I haven’t done this since I was a teenager.”

With that, she slid her burdens off her shoulder. The heavy slats clacked loudly as she emptied them onto the rock and set about clicking the pieces together. Reyes watched uncertainly as the first sled slowly took form. The view _was_ beautiful, but his awe was quickly fading. Heights were fine. Speed was fine. Descending a height _at_ speed, though, without a good pair of wings beneath you - that was insanity.

“I know you said this wasn’t dangerous -”

“It’s not.”

“- but I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to back out.”

Sara chuckled, and she snapped the next pair of slats together with glee. “Having second thoughts? There’s no _way_ you can be scared of heights.”

“I’m not.”

“Falling, then?” Her words were punctuated with snaps; clacks; scrapes. “Seems like a difficult fear for a pilot to have.”

“That’s not it.” Reyes would never have admitted it, but he wasn’t just uncomfortable. He really was starting to feel scared.

Sara clicked the last component into place, surveying her work critically. The two sleds were plain, but apparently serviceable, because she gave a satisfied nod. She tucked her hair under her collar and pulled her helmet back on, then retrieved Reyes’ from the snowdrift. She handed it back to him, smiling through her visor - but something in his eyes must have given him away. Her smile turned soft and careful.

“We don’t have to do this,” she said gently. “I was glad just to walk up here. It’s beautiful.”

Reyes shook his head. He knew a white lie when he heard one, so he prised his helmet from her hands. He slid it back on, grateful for the little hiss that sounded when the latches resealed - because he suddenly needed a very deep breath.

“We’re up here, aren’t we? Let’s do this.”

Sara’s next smile was a thousand watts. Her movements quick and careful, like a child sharing her favourite game, she positioned her sled at the lip of the hill. She sat down atop it with her feet braced against the forward corners, taking pains to ensure she faced the gentler side of the incline. Craning over, she patted the snow beside her.

Reyes’ heartbeat was rattling his skeleton. He was definitely numb, now, but he could feel a throbbing between his shoulder blades. It was probably just his heart - and it was probably trying to flee.

He dragged his sled over and sat down just like she had. He copied her stance, but he couldn’t still his shaking hands.

Sara clapped him on the shoulder. “Just stay with me.”

Then she was over the edge - and she was _gone_ , streaking away across the snow like a probe through a glittering nebula. For the length of half a heartbeat, Reyes remained frozen.

Fuck it.

He pushed his sled forward, and the decision was suddenly out of his hands. Gravity took over, and he was _flying_ \- not really flying, of course; not in the sense that Reyes always had - but the world was eroded in a blur of ice and snow. His heart ceased battering against his spine. It clung to it instead, hanging on for dear life - and Reyes hung on too. He could hear Sara whooping through the comm. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears -

But there was no sudden disaster; no abrupt but expected end. His adrenaline ran its course. Gravity ran its course, too, and the world slowly resumed its shape as Reyes began to slow. He could see Sara waving at him from the bottom of the hill, helmet once again discarded. She was laughing; yelling; cheering - and by the time Reyes slid to a halt beside her, he was laughing too.

“That was _great_!” she hollered. She was beaming at him, her cheeks even more flushed than before.

Reyes ripped off his helmet and flung himself into the snow beside her. “ _Shit_.”

Sara laughed, clambering over him to lie down at his side. A snowflake landed on his nose, but Sara kissed it away. “Again?”

“Again.”


	3. Desolate

There were times when standing on the edge of Kadara Port felt like standing on the edge of existence. The lip of the docks was the brink of some wild and desolate frontier, even now that the badlands were no longer forbidding; the verge of dark space, almost, and all the emptiness inside.

“I need to go,” Sara murmured. She’d said it already, but repetition didn’t seem to make it easier. Reyes’ arms were heavy around her waist. His breath was warm on the back of her neck. Sara’s next words were quiet - and she wasn’t sure if she meant for him to hear. “If you kiss me again, Reyes -”

But he _did_ hear her, and he did kiss her - and Sara’s next words died on her lips. It was chaste and gentle, planted low on the base of her neck, but it still moved through her like shifting tectonics; like primordial forces stirring the earth. She sighed softly, leaning back into him, and the bleakness before her smoothed out into bliss.

Until Sara remembered.

She needed to go.

“Reyes -”

“I know.” He kissed her again - on the curve of her shoulder, this time - and hugged her closer. “But just for a moment, Sara… Let me pretend.”

“My crew are waiting.” She said it without heat; without feeling at all.

His lips moved to the hinge of her jaw. “Shhh.”

There was a time when the wild and the desolate had called to Sara like a song, but in moments like these all she heard was her heartbeat - and Reyes’, too, although she knew it was impossible. His armour was surely too thick, and hers surely too bulky, but she could have sworn that she could _feel_ it, too. It was the rhythm of the distant beat that called her to the stars; the pulsing of the blood that ran hotter at his touch.

“I need to go,” she whispered again - but she didn’t even hear herself, this time. She cleared her throat, ready to try it all again, until his fingers skimmed under her chin. He turned her head and kissed her, just like he’d done upon that rooftop.

And Sara didn’t want to go.

“Someone will see you,” she whispered. He breathed her in like honeyed steam, eyes and lips and fingertips lingering. It was dangerous for them to be too closely associated; to run the risk that someone might see through the Charlatan’s guise -

“I don’t care.”

Sara didn’t want to cry. “I need to go.” The words came out like gauze over glass shards; like she’d forced them from her throat while her heart tried to claw them back.

Reyes sighed. “I know.” But he kissed her again -

And Sara didn’t want to go.


	4. Time Off

Thudding music and garish lights: _that_ was Tartarus. Recently, though, Sara had stopped associating the club with headaches. The name made her think of quiet jazz piano - and the taste of whiskey on Reyes Vidal’s tongue. She was on her way there right now, leaping the puddles in Kadara Port’s slums. No one bothered her as she made her way into the club.

No one was stupid enough to do that anymore. No one on Kadara, anyway.

Sara knocked on Reyes’ door with a little more force than was necessary. She wasn’t even wearing her armour, but a few patrons still sent her looks of alarm. Some even scurried down to the lower level as if they thought she might start something violent. Sara swallowed her frustration, resisting the urge to rest her forehead against the door. All she’d wanted was a vacation. Was that really too much to ask?

She slipped inside the moment the door slid open. Reyes was waiting for her, lounging on his couch with one arm stretched out along the back. He was smiling, of course - he always was, when Sara stopped by - but the smile faded when he saw the look on her face. The door whirred shut, and Sara leaned back against it. She might have closed her eyes, but the sight of Reyes really was like water to the thirsty and fire to the cold.

He was all she wanted, really. He was all she needed.

Sara sighed. “Hi.”

Reyes didn’t reply immediately. He rose from his seat in a single smooth movement, footsteps almost silent as he crossed the floor. His hands settled on her hips, heavy, warm and comforting, and pulled her gently towards him. He smelled like worn leather. His breath tickled her cheek as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Hello.”

Sara did close her eyes, then, folding her arms over his shoulders. He was careful; tender; hesitant, almost - and when his lips brushed hers, Sara couldn’t contain a desperate little sigh.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

She felt him smile against her skin. “But you’re here now.”

Reyes kissed her softly, tongue pushing gently past her lips, and Sara melted against him. He made her head spin with a few teasing licks; raised goosebumps on her skin just by pushing close against her. She tried to chase him when he broke the kiss, but his hand moved to her chest to hold her back.

“What’s wrong?”

Sara laced her fingers behind his neck and let her head fall back against the door. She groaned. “I asked Tann for time off.”

“Hm.” Reyes’ expression darkened. Sara knew he resented the Nexus leadership for how hard they drove her. “And he said no?”

“Uh huh.” Sara tried to tug him back within reach of her lips. He resisted at first, but relented when she gave another plaintive sigh; pressed his lips to her collarbone, dusting kisses along the sensitive skin. “And then I kind of lost it.”

Reyes chuckled quietly. “What does that mean?”

Sara shrugged. She walked her fingers up his neck, sliding the tips through his hair. “I…broke his desk in half.”

Reyes paused, lips hovering somewhere over her shoulder. “You what?”

“Broke his desk in half - and I’m not even sorry.”

He kissed her throat, and Sara could feel him smiling into her skin. “I assume you’re taking your time off, then.”

“Sure am.”

His next kiss was different. It was hard; passionate; _hungry_. Sara moaned into the air above his head, curling her fingers tighter. The hand on her waist slid down over her ass. He squeezed.

“You’re one hell of a woman.”

Sara couldn’t get close enough. She wanted to be _part_ of him; to blur right through him, maybe, or at least to feel his heartbeat sync with hers. She adjusted her footing, trying to pull him even closer, but he took advantage of the movement to push his thigh against her instead. Sara inhaled sharply. Almost despite herself, she rocked against him. “Reyes -”

His lips moved back to hers. Sara opened her mouth to let him in, gasping for air in the scant seconds he gave her to breathe. That hand on her sternum was unbuttoning her shirt. Sara clung to his bicep, willing those bunching muscles to work faster; to hurry _up_ , for fuck’s sake; to pin her down and make her _feel_ -

They both froze when they heard the fabric rip. Reyes looked down at the ruin he’d made of her shirt, blinking like she’d shone a spotlight in his eyes. It seemed to take him a moment to understand what had happened.

“Shit,” he muttered.

Sara laughed - more than a little breathlessly. They were both breathing hard; clinging to each other with trembling fingers. Sara could feel a flush creeping up her neck. Reyes’ pupils were blown wide.

Jesus. It was scary, sometimes, how desperately she _wanted_ him; how desperately he wanted her, too, and how little anything else seemed to matter when they had each other within reach.

Reyes’ eyes flicked back to hers. Buttons clattered to the floor. He watched her intently as he slipped his hand inside her shirt, the pads of his fingers skimming the curve of her breast. Sara’s fingers bit into his arm. There was blurring on the borders of her vision. There was something hot and tight coiling in her belly. Reyes had her pinned against the door, his thigh between her legs and his hand inside her bra -

“I’m not even sorry,” he breathed.


	5. Another Reason

The quartermaster had turned even paler than the sand. Sara’s hands balled into fists as she glared at her.

“Missing supplies? _Again?_ ”

The guilt was almost immediate. Sometimes it felt like Sara knew everyone on Eos, but that was because she didn’t know any of them at all. She recognized the big ones; the important faces, and the names of those with influence - but she couldn’t claim any more knowledge than that. It didn’t matter that Prodromos was her pride and joy. It didn’t matter that she’d spent blood and tears to give this place a fighting chance.

She’d never so much as asked this woman’s name. She didn’t get to be rude to her.

“Sorry,” Sara muttered. She lifted her chin and flexed her fingers; took those deep, calming breaths that Scott always told her to take. “You want me to look into it, right?”

The quartermaster nodded. She didn’t look scared, precisely, but she was definitely nervous. A furious Pathfinder had that effect on people.

SAM spoke up on their private channel. “Travel on Eos will be considerably easier now that the Kett have scaled back their presence on the planet. It should not take long to fulfil the quartermaster’s request.”

“I’ll do it,” Sara sighed. “Give me the coordinates.”

—

The heat on Eos was more an annoyance than a hazard. Five minutes on Elaaden had a way of making any ordinary desert seem well and truly temperate, but Sara’s forehead was still sticky with sweat by the time the Nomad crested Sheartop.

“We’re almost at the quartermaster’s coordinates,” Peebee said from the backseat. She sounded a good deal more cheerful than Sara felt. “Down that path to the northwest, do you think?”

Jaal rumbled his agreement. “I believe so.” Unlike Peebee, he sounded a little nervous, but that was probably because of angle of the path in question. Anything more than a gentle descent fired up Jaal’s distrust of Milky Way tire treads - and the sandy surface probably didn’t help. “You’ll proceed _carefully_ , right?”

Sara hoped he couldn’t see her smirk in the rear-vision mirror. “Of course.”

She took the slope at a good seventy or eighty kilometres an hour; not fast enough to send them off the edge of the narrow path, but enough to make Jaal squeak in alarm. The Nomad’s tires left the ground for a moment - _several_ moments - and the adrenaline kick got the blood flowing through Sara’s veins again. Jaal gasped when the vehicle slammed back into the sand, kicking silicates up behind them like orange streamers.

Peebee snickered, slapping the panting angara on the shoulder. “See, Jaal? Carefully.”

For what it was worth, Sara did continue the descent with caution. The path was a winding one, curling around outcroppings and between towering, rocky pillars. The slope soon came close to levelling out. According to the quartermaster’s coordinates, they were exactly where they needed to be, but Sara couldn’t see anything.

Wait.

“Is that a cave?”

Peebee crawled between the front seats to get a better look. “I think so! Let’s go take a look.”

“I recommend that you investigate,” SAM chimed in.

“Then let’s proceed on foot,” Jaal said shakily. Peebee giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle it, but Sara felt another flash of guilt.

“You got it, Jaal. Let’s go.”

The cave was several degrees cooler than the sun-drenched sand outside, and Sara was grateful for it. It was narrow, too, in contrast to the other sprawling caverns she’d seen on Eos, and the sound of their footsteps echoed back at them no matter how carefully they advanced. About twenty metres in, the tunnel hooked sharply to the right - then branched into two distinct paths.

Sara stopped. “Hmm. Scissors-paper-rock? Eenie-meenie-miney-mo?”

SAM responded before the others had the chance. “It would be more efficient to investigate both forks at once, Pathfinder. I do not detect any hostiles in the area. Perhaps you should proceed down the path to the right. Ms. B'Sayle and Mr. Amal Darav can investigate the path on the left.”

“You’re suggesting we split up. Have you been watching those horror vids Liam lent you? You _know_ what happens when the team splits up.”

“Ugh,” Peebee muttered. “It’ll be fine! Quit worrying so much, Ryder.”

Sara raised an eyebrow at her. “Seriously?” She looked at Jaal, expecting to find an ally - but he was already heading for the path SAM had suggested. “Jaal!”

“I agree with Peebee,” he said calmly. “The kett are long gone from Eos, and if SAM detects no cause for concern -”

“Then we have _nothing_ to be afraid of,” Peebee finished for him. She looped her arm through Jaal’s and led him away. With the sunlight cut off by the turn in the tunnel, the darkness was almost complete, but Peebee’s flashlight flickered to life a moment later. “Get _going_ ,” she called back to Sara. “What are you waiting for?”

Sara sighed. “If I get eaten by an eiroch,” she yelled at the rapidly retreating illumination, “I’m telling SAM to blame you!”

“You are not going to be eaten, Pathfinder.”

“Whatever you say, SAM.”

She advanced slowly, her weapon at the ready and a prepared biotic throw dancing on her fingertips. Her flashlight went some way towards dispersing the darkness, but its pale beam only stretched about ten metres in front of her. She couldn’t decide whether she was grateful for the narrow path or resentful of it. If any of the monsters from Liam’s vids were going to leap out at her, she only had one way to run.

Sara flinched when her omnitool pinged. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” Peebee’s voice was a little crackly - probably thanks to interference from the surrounding rock - but she still sounded distinctly pleased with herself. “Just wanted to tell you what a great time we’re having over here. We could hang out here for _hours._ How are you doing?”

Sara sighed explosively. She was ready to fire back something irritable - but she could see a glimmer of light up ahead. “SAM?”

“It appears to be natural light, Pathfinder. There may be a gap in the cavern ceiling around the next bend.”

Sara set her omnitool to silence incoming transmissions. A little sunlight shouldn’t have made her nervous, but something about this wasn’t right. Peebee was being too cheerful. Jaal was being too reckless. And SAM? Sara couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about the way he’d said _hostiles_.

But he was right about one thing: the _was_ a gap in the ceiling. Sara rounded a twist in the tunnel to find herself standing in a cone of golden light, dust motes dancing in the air around her. There was a large provisions crate sitting in the centre of the illumination, an Initiative mark emblazoned on its side.

“Are these the missing supplies, SAM?”

“Yes, Pathfinder. The ID number matches that provided by the quartermaster in Prodromos.”

Sara breathed a sigh of relief - but something still didn’t seem right. She approached the crate slowly, reaching out to skim her fingers along the nearest surface -

And it _moved_. Only briefly, and only slightly - but it definitely shifted, skidding a half-centimetre across the floor as if something inside it had hurled itself against one side. Sara could hear a quiet shuffling coming from the crate. Panting, too.

This was _not_ a supply crate.

“I swear to god, SAM, if there’s an eiroch in here -”

“I do not detect any eirochs in the area, Pathfinder, and we have yet to encounter one that would fit in a supply crate. Perhaps you should open it to confirm.”

Sara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “ _SAM_ -”

“I strongly recommend it.”

Sara sighed one more time. Something was _very_ fishy about this, but SAM wouldn’t try to hurt her. Taking up position slightly to the side of the crate, she used her omnitool to slice through one of the joints. The shuffling stopped while the tool whirred. She crossed to the other side of the crate, hauling on the severed surface as she went. It creaked open - reluctantly - until it finally hung free, secured to the body of the crate by only one of its four connecting sides.

Sara peered into the dark interior. She couldn’t see much. There was a small device secured to one of the inside walls.

“That is slow-release oxygen supply, Pathfinder.”

“Why would there be -”

She cut off at the tell-tale scrape of claws on aluminium. Something was stirring in the darkness. She could hear it breathing; hear it _advancing_. Sara raised her gun, preparing to turn tail and run if she smelled even a _hint_ of eiroch breath.

SAM was talking again. “You will not need your weapon, Pathfinder.”

What the _fuck_ was going on?

Then it charged at her, barrelling out of the darkness like a little torpedo; leaping up to bat at her with tiny paws and wet nose -

Wait. What?

Maybe it was a reflex, or maybe it was just shock, but Sara stumbled backwards. She fell on her ass on the cave floor - and then it was on top of her, licking at her ears and snuffling at her hair.

“Oh my _god_ -”

It was a puppy.

Sara could have cried with joy. She pushed it away just long enough to clamber up onto her knees. The puppy scrunched up its tiny face, worrying at her wrist as it tried to get in close again. It was an ahdi, by the look of it, with a brightly coloured dorsal fan and blunt little teeth. It didn’t have any fur, but Sara could live with that. Like adult ahdi, its skin was thick and leathery, but it came in rolls like a tiny, furless pug. Its eyes were huge and glinting, and it leaped at Sara the moment she let it go, snuffling at her neck as it tried to climb onto her shoulders; whining like a baby when she refused to let it lick her face.

A voice rang out behind her. “I see you found my present.”

Sara froze - then spun around, clutching the puppy to her chest as she searched for the source of the voice. When she found him, she wanted to cry again.

Reyes was leaning against the wall of the cavern, half in shadow and half in light, smiling that self-satisfied smile of his. “Do you like it?”

“What are you doing here?” The puppy managed to squirm high enough to lick Sara’s chin - and tears of joy pricked at her eyes. “And yes. Yes, I do.”

Reyes’ smile widened. He pushed himself off the wall. “Good. SAM couldn’t tell me if you were a dog person or not.”

“Hang on. SAM was in on this?”

Sara knew she was probably imagining it, but SAM sounded a little sheepish. “Mr. Vidal and I were in agreement. It has been too long since you took time for yourself, Pathfinder. He suggested that a surprise might be in order.”

“So you got me a dog?” Sara put a hand over her mouth to shield herself from the puppy’s assault on her chin. “Wait, SAM - so it was you? You took the supplies?”

Still smiling as if he’d never been so pleased with himself in his life, Reyes knelt down on the ground beside her. “Not exactly. We borrowed this crate from Prodromos, but we didn’t actually steal any supplies. SAM fudged a few numbers here and there.” Sara must have looked horrified, because his expression turned mollifying. “Hey - we had to get you to come out here _somehow_. You’d never have agreed to take the time if you thought it was a personal outing. SAM can fix the books up later.”

Sara glanced down at the puppy, heart pushing up against the bottom of her throat. He was pawing at one of the clasps on her armour. “He can’t live on the Tempest. Kallo will have an aneurysm.”

“Then he can live with me. That was my plan all along, you know.” Reyes smiled again, and Sara’s heart threatened to crack in two. “To give you another reason to visit me.”

He kissed her, lips slow and soft and gentle; fingers skimming up her arm to tilt her chin a little higher. Sara giggled helplessly into his mouth, scrambling to stop the puppy from climbing up between them. It was bouncing around in her arms, yipping in excitement.

“Oh my god. I think I’m going to cry.”

Reyes pulled back. He looked alarmed. “You aren’t allergic, are you? _Can_ you be allergic to ahdi?”

Sara snorted a laugh. She hooked one arm around his neck, dragging him down to her lips again; clutching the puppy with her other hand as it squirmed and yipped and sniffed. “No.”

She kissed him again, wishing she could stay here forever. She wished she could show him just how loved he made her feel.

“I’m just happy.”


	6. Helpless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of nsfw.

Sara couldn’t see a thing. She’d expected at least a hint of light to creep in beneath the blindfold, but the world was totally swathed in black; reduced to the rasp of her too-loud breathing and the unyielding wall at her back.

“Please talk to me.”

She reached out with trembling fingers. It seemed like an eternity before she felt Reyes’ hand close over hers. He pressed her palm against his chest. His skin was warm, his breath tickling her neck in time with the rise and fall of his chest.

“Reyes…”

His lips brushed at the corner of her mouth, curving in a smile when she tried to chase them. His chuckle in her ear sent shivers rolling through her, from the shell of her ear to the nape of her neck; the top of her spine to soles of her feet. Sara reached up with her other hand, fumbling for his jaw - like she planned to drag him back to her, maybe, or at least clutch at him while she murmured her pleas against his cheek.

“Reyes -”

“Shhh.” He caught her wrist and pushed it back against the wall. His other hand moved slowly down her neck, knuckles just barely grazing her skin. “You like to listen to me talk, don’t you?”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw, and Sara nodded helplessly.

“You like to let me touch you.”

“ _Yes_.”

Reyes nuzzled into her neck. His hands were wandering over her body, stoking quiet fires beneath her skin. “Tell me what you want to hear, Sara.”

Sara’s head fell back. “I - Reyes, please -”

“Come on,” he murmured. He was still just barely touching her, but Sara could feel his body heat. He was scorching like a solar flare, whispering something into her hair that Sara couldn’t quite understand.

But it had the right rhythm. It had the right lilt.

_I love you._

Her words came out low and needy. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

She felt Reyes grin against her skin. “If you insist.”


	7. You

“You’re pretty.” Reyes says it with a wink, because Sara _hates_ this game.

She sighs. They’re sprawled on the bed in Reyes’ apartment, walled off from Kadara Port’s glaring lights by close-drawn blinds and piled blankets. The hanging light above the bed’s emitting soft illumination, orange-tinted like Govorkam’s rays. Sara wriggles closer against Reyes’ side, pouting like she hopes it will distract him from his teasing.

“Not _again_ ,” she groans. “I suck at compliments, Reyes.”

“I hope you don’t mean to imply that you’re running out of nice things to say.” He tries to sound put out, but his grin must give the game away. He rolls onto his side so he can lean over her. She’s wearing a flimsy sweater, but not much else, and Reyes hasn’t been fully dressed since she landed on the planet. “Because I could keep going for days.”

“You’re sweet,” she murmurs. Her fingertips travel slowly up his arm, warm like sunlight cresting the mountains; cold like fire in near-vacuum. “Sometimes.”

Reyes chuckles, ducking his head to kiss her. Her lips are soft, and she mewls quietly when he licks into her mouth. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes.

He’s not sure that she heard him, but he’s not sure that it matters, either. She must feel the way his body changes when he touches her, tight-wound movements turning languid while his heartbeat trends staccato. They’ve been doing this for months now, but she still trembles when the pads of his fingers roam her body; still gulps down shaky breaths when his lips move to the hollow of her throat.

“You’re a good kisser,” she replies. She yelps when Reyes nips gently at her collarbone. “What? Not the compliment you were looking for?”

He soothes her skin with his tongue, warmth sliding down his spine when her breathing gives way to a quiet moan. “You can do better,” he whispers. “You’re right, though. I _am_ an excellent kisser.”

“Mmm.” She wraps her thighs around his hips, sliding one palm over his shoulder to rest lightly on the nape of his neck. “You’re a good shot, too.”

“That hurts,” he growls into her throat. “I’m much better than good.”

The sound makes her shiver in delight, and she tilts her head to the side to urge him towards a new spot below her ear. He won’t give her what she wants, though. He sticks to that same patch of skin he’s been working on already, smirking when she whines in frustration.

“You’re a bastard.” The words come out hushed and fragile; full of weak-limbed longing and breathless want.

“What else?”

He takes mercy on her reddening skin, kissing a spot just below her jaw instead. He can feel her heartbeat thrumming through the artery there. It’s hot. It’s fierce. It’s unsteady.

“You hog the blankets,” she snarls, like she’s trying to deny those tell-tale signs. “You leave the cap off the toothpaste. You’re a _terrible_ cook.”

Reyes really does laugh at that, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder - and after a moment, Sara starts laughing too. But the laughter’s quickly silenced. When Reyes pulls back to look at her, her lips are slightly open. Her pupils are huge.

“Please don’t stop.”

“ _Shit_ , Sara.” Reyes goes back to her neck, teasing the tender skin with his teeth - just gently, like he’s testing her control - and she hisses fierce approval. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

She’s trembling. “You’re _everything_ ,” she whispers - and for a moment, neither of them even breathe.

She’s clinging to him like she’ll never let him go. Reyes’ heartbeat’s no longer staccato. It’s _stopped_ \- and he can’t really blame it. He holds her tighter; pulls her closer; pushes down so hard against her they might both break down to space dust. He loves her more than should be possible. He loves her more than a heart like his has room for.

He can’t respond immediately. It’s like his brain’s running at aux-power, but Sara’s watching him with gentle eyes. She’s waiting for an answer.

Reyes kisses her. He’s buying time - and he’s sure that Sara knows it - but she hooks her elbow around his neck anyway, pulling him down until they’re flat against the mattress. Her lips fall open on a breathless sigh: quiet; needy; quavering. Reyes still can’t breathe.

Maybe he doesn’t need to. Maybe he’s just forgotten how.

“You’re all I want.”

He doesn’t say it; he exhales it. He _means_ it, too, and maybe that’s just because Kadara Port’s already his. But he’ll never stop wanting Sara, even when she’s whispering _I love you_ in his ear; even when she’s promising forever amidst his tangled, sweaty sheets.

“I don’t ever want to be away from you,” she murmurs, and it’s like she’s reading his god damn thoughts.

She means it, though. Reyes can tell, because her tight-wound movements turn languid. Her heartbeat trends staccato. He kisses her again, whispering a three-word promise into her lips - but it’s so much more than that. He could be with her forever, and his head would still be spinning circles. The galaxy’s turning on an inescapable truth.

“Me either,” he breathes.

Because Reyes doesn’t want to escape.


	8. Handsome

There were a lot of reasons why Sara enjoyed spending time on Kadara, and the abundance of hot water was only one of them. She’d been in the shower for close to an hour now, just relishing the heat and steam. Reyes’ mountainside apartment had a continuous hot water system - and thank god for that, or he’d probably have turfed her out days ago. He’d been sound asleep when she woke up, but she could hear him moving around in the bedroom. Sara toyed with the idea of going to join him.

But maybe he’d come to her, instead. Sara’s heart began to beat faster when she heard him pause at the bathroom door -

There was a bang, followed by an even louder crash - and a string of heartfelt Spanish curses. Alarmed, Sara shut the water off.

“What happened?”

“Tripped over your shoes,” she heard Reyes snarl. He immediately descended into swearing again, his grumbling growing fainter as he headed towards the living room.

Sara winced and snatched up the towel she’d left hanging over the back of the door. She wrapped it around her waist and headed off in pursuit, squeezing out her sodden hair with one hand and clutching the towel to her chest with the other. She found her boots right where she’d left them, of course; thoughtlessly discarded outside the bedroom door.

“Reyes?”

She found him on the couch, slumped so far down that he was almost lying flat. Naked except for his sweatpants, he was working one ankle up, down and around like he was testing for broken bones. Thin bands of Kadaran sunlight were sneaking past the slatted blinds, painting him in white-gold stripes as he fixed her with a baleful glare.

“One of these days,” Reyes grumbled, “I’m going to walk out of my bedroom and break my neck. And it’s going to be your fault, Sara Ryder.” Petulant lips parted when he puffed a strand of hair out of his eyes.

Sara clapped a hand over her mouth - partly in horror, and partly to hold back a giggle. “I’m so sorry, baby.” She padded over on damp feet to kneel on the floor beside him. “Are you okay?”

He muttered something that Sara didn’t understand. “I think so,” he said eventually. “For now.”

Sara was trying so hard not to laugh. It wasn’t funny, of course, but he was just so _adorable_. She caught his heel in her hand and pressed a kiss against the offended ankle. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m sorry.” She punctuated her apologies with more kisses, ignoring the water she tracked across the floor.

Reyes huffed irritably, drawing his foot out of her reach. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“Never.”

Sara followed him up onto the couch, though he groaned in feigned despair when her dripping hair splattered more water over the fabric. She tried to lift his arm to cuddle in close beside him - but it stayed clamped grimly at his side. She slid over onto his lap instead, though he was sitting so low on the couch that it meant she was straddling his stomach. She caught his face between her hands and leaned down to rub her nose against his.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

Reyes sighed. He was still glowering, but he wasn’t _really_ angry. Sara could feel his cheeks twitching as he tried to hold back a smile. It was weird, really, that a man like Reyes could be so irrepressibly _cute_.

Reyes was the Charlatan. Sara knew he had to be capable of anger much colder and harder than this, but she had never seen it. Maybe it was delusional - but she doubted that she ever would.

“I’m not cute,” Reyes muttered. “I’m _handsome_.”

Sara kissed him gently. His frown faded as she caught his lower lip between hers, and when she finally pulled away, Reyes groaned into the air between them. Sara’s hair was dripping water down onto his face - but for the moment, he just didn’t seem to care.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he said again. He said it softly. He said it urgently.

Sara shrugged. “Only very sweetly,” she murmured.

Reyes reached up to cup her cheek - but surprised her by tangling a hand in her hair. “Then I guess I won’t complain.”


	9. Arcadia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was - I quote - "challenge mode."
> 
> "I didn't do it." + "You're in trouble now." + "I came to say goodbye."

"Sara? _Sara_. Meridian to Pathfinder. You awake?"

Sara muttered something filthy. She reached down over the edge of the couch until she found one of her boots on the floor - then hurled it across the room. Scott ducked out of the way, grinning like the smug morning person he was.

"Wouldn't have offered you my couch if I knew you were going to be so sore about it. Three days planet-side too much for you?"

"I'm not used to Port Meridian time," Sara grumbled. She rolled over and buried her face in the cushion she'd been using as a pillow. "Just let me get some fucking sleep."

"You'll never get used to it if you sleep through every day."

Sara growled as viciously as she could manage with a tongue that felt like cotton wool. "Just. Go. Away."

"Sorry."

Scott must have hit the button that controlled the window dimmers, because the room was suddenly full of pale light. Sara screwed her eyes up as tightly as she could, but she still couldn't keep it out. "You are a _terrible_ human being."

"I know. Come on. There's coffee in the kitchen."

Sara would have liked to say that she crawled off the couch with good grace, but it would have been a total lie. Nestled in the leafy valley just beyond Port Meridian, Scott's house didn't see sunlight until quite late in the morning. That meant it was probably mid-afternoon right now. Sara was grateful for the quiet floors and soft-edged décor as she stumbled after her brother, even if his fondness for tall windows was beginning to make her hate him - and she could have cried into his shirt when he guided her into a chair at the kitchen table and plonked a cup of coffee in front of her.

Scott claimed a seat opposite and wrapped his hands tight around his own mug. The table was made of wood - _real_ wood, just like the window frames and the floors. Sara had to admit to more than a little jealousy. Scott was a liaison to the human colonial efforts now, and his job allowed him a good deal more comforts than Sara's did.

A predictable schedule. A peaceful home. Maybe a family, too - eventually.

The ceilings were high, the neutral furniture was low, and Sara began to level out somewhere in the middle when she took her first sips of coffee.

"I feel for you," Scott said. "Dry dock is just water torture without the water."

Sara nodded. "You're so right."

"How long to go now?"

"Seven days. Counting."

Maybe Sara should have been pleased to get some time to herself in humanity's new home, but it felt like she was wasting ten precious days of downtime. She kept wondering what she'd be doing if she still had wings beneath her; just how happy she'd be if she was waking up somewhere better than her brother's couch.

She missed Reyes. Downtime was meant to be _their_ time.

"Well, you're out of bed before nightfall. That's a good start." Scott was tapping a beat on the tabletop. "Hey - we should go out tonight! That'll help."

Sara took another gulp of hot, bitter coffee - and pressed her forehead flat against the table. She groaned. "The last thing I want to do is go out drinking, Scott."

"We can grab Peebee, Liam, Gil - and whoever else wants to come." He nudged her sharply, knuckles briefly digging into her wrist. "It'll be good for you. Trust me."

Sara didn't reply. If she pressed her skull against the varnished wood at just the right angle, tiny threads of cool relief skittered down over her temple.

"Actually," Scott mused, chair creaking as it slid back over the floor, "there's a little bar up near the spaceport that you might like. It's called Arcadia. You won't guess who I saw there the other night."

"Who?" Sara didn't _really_ care, but this was the kind of conversation it was easy to pretend to be involved in. Her eyelids felt like they'd been lined with lead. She wondered if -

"Reyes was there." Sara's head snapped up. "He saw me at the bar and bought me a drink - or I thought he did, anyway. I wound up having to pay for it."

Sara could only blink at him. "What?"

"I know, right? Not sure what he was doing in Meridian."

"You didn't _ask_ him?"

Scott shrugged, eyes as wide and innocent as only Scott's could be. "What, you're curious?"

"Scott -"

He raised his mug to his lips, grinning against the rim. "Don't you guys ever talk?"

"Not about business." It was a rule that Sara liked. It was a rule that Sara needed.

"Well, you never know." Scott finally took another sip. "He mentioned something about knowing the place pretty well. Maybe we might see him there tonight?"

Sara glowered at him. "I swear to god, Scott, if you're winding me up -"

"I'm not!"

Sara could still hear him laughing as she headed for the bathroom - and a much needed shower. "SAM?"

"Yes, Pathfinder."

"Send a message to Reyes for me, would you? Ask him where he is."

\---

Hours went by with no reply. That wasn't unusual in itself. Reyes was as busy as Sara was - or at least as busy as she _normally_ was - and sometimes extranet messages had to take a backseat to more immediate concerns. Still, this message felt more urgent than the others.

Was he on Meridian? If she went for a walk right now, would she have a chance of running into him? She wondered what that might look like: an anonymous woman with rumpled civvies and messy hair catching the eye of a shady-looking smuggler. He'd smile at her from across the street, maybe; wink at her while he headed off to take care of whatever errand he was running.

 _Damn_ it.

Nightfall arrived, and Sara still hadn't heard from Reyes - so she decided she'd go along with Scott's plan for a night out. "Worst case scenario," she muttered to herself as she dressed, "Scott was just being a little shit. Best case scenario, he wasn't. No big deal."

She didn't have much in her luggage that was suitable for a city bar, but she found a short tee-shirt dress that looked okay with her boots. Scott dressed down too, and he gave her the thumbs up when she asked for an opinion - _It's a laid-back kind of place, sis_ \- but she still felt relieved when Peebee, Liam and Gil showed up in similarly casual clothes.

Peebee looked Sara up and down, though, smirking like she knew something Sara didn't. "You sure you want to wear _that_ , Ryder?"

Liam elbowed Scott in the ribs, grinning almost as smugly as Peebee, and Gil hid an obvious smile behind his hand. "You're wearing _cargo pants_ , Peebs. I don't think you get to judge."

"Agreed," Sara said airily. "Let's go."

It was a short taxi ride to the bar. Port Meridian spread out below them as the vehicle rose, point-source lights blurring into each other as they stretched farther from the ground. The sky above - or what passed for the sky on Meridian, anyway - was sprinkled with light as well. Sara wondered why the Jaardan had bothered to paint the ceiling with their imitation stars. Was it to make the world look normal? Or to make their creations long for adventure?

The lights below took on bright and varied colours as they drew closer to the spaceport. Peebee, Scott and Liam were already getting into the spirit, laughing and elbowing each other while the taxi driver rolled her eyes. Gil was squished up against Sara. He winced whenever Peebee wriggled too enthusiastically.

"I need a drink," he grunted.

"Good thing we're nearly there."

Arcadia was crowded in amongst a strip of narrow buildings near the spaceport. The whole street thrummed with dance music and excited chatter, echoes bouncing in the gutters and feeding off each other to build a steady, buzzing beat. The lights were mostly blue and red, smoothing out to purple where the sweeping colours met. Sara couldn't remember what day it was, but it had to be the weekend; the sidewalk and the alleys were crowded with chattering people.

Amazing, really. Here they were, two-point-five million lightyears from home - and humanity already had the nightlife covered.

Sara would have liked to say that she didn't look for Reyes the moment she stepped inside, but that was a story that wouldn't fool anyone. She didn't find him, either, but that didn't really surprise her. Scott's story had seemed unlikely from the outset - but she didn't give up hope entirely. She headed for the bar, Gil close on her heels, while the rest of their group dawdled along behind. Gil bought the first round, and Sara had to wonder if he was gearing up for a poker offensive later. They all piled into a booth in a corner, oscillating between loud banter and giggling debate; tipsy laughter and red-faced teasing.

It was a nice place, and the hours passed easily. The dance floor was wide. The lights were dim. The music was loud enough for dancing, but not too loud for talking, and the shadows in the corners left just enough to the imagination.

For most people, anyway. It wasn't enough for Sara.

It only took a few drinks for Peebee and Scott to drag the rest of them onto the dancefloor. Sara went with them, doing her best to laugh at the right times and smile in the right places. She giggled nervously when Liam started them off on one of those college-kid dance circles - and didn't try to resist when the rest of them beckoned her into the centre, clapping and cheering as the music swelled. Sara sighed soundlessly, winding her way down almost low enough to touch the floor; twirling on her toes as she surged back up again. She twisted her fingers in her hair. Peebee whooped. Liam cheered. Scott clapped a hand over his eyes, pulling a face, and Gil laughed at him.

Damn it.

She retreated to the bar after that, leaving them to their dancing. She slumped onto a stool like her feet couldn't bear her weight a moment longer; like she'd been awake for six years instead of six hours. She didn't order, even when the young bartender gave her a pointed look. She rested her chin on her hand instead, drawing patterns on the bar with idle fingertips. The bar was made of wood, too, like the table in Scott's house. She was still in awe. Meridian. A new home.

But it was incomplete; imperfect; _lacking_.

She wasn't moping, though. She _wasn't_.

Sara flinched when a glass clinked down in front of her. She glanced up at the bartender. "I didn't order this."

The young man shrugged. "From an admirer," he replied - like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Good whiskey, that. I wouldn't turn it down."

Whiskey?

Sara twisted around, searching the crowded room behind her, but all she could see were silhouettes. "Who paid for it?"

The bartender made a noncommittal sound. When Sara turned back around, he shrugged again. "Some guy, but he took off. That's weird, by the way. This is usually the start of a play."

Sara frowned at his back while he moved away. She picked up the glass, intending to sip it while she conducted a more thorough search - but her eyes widened when she saw something pressed to the bottom of the glass.

"SAM? What is this?"

"It is a computer chip, Pathfinder. It appears to contain an audio message. Should I play it on your private channel?"

"Please." There was a slight crackle as the audio transitioned in.

"Sara." It _was_ Reyes. "I hope you're enjoying Arcadia - though I have to say the drinks are a little pricier than I would like. The whiskey's not Mount Milgrom, by the way. Disappointing, to say the least."

"Son of a bitch," Sara whispered. She drained the whiskey in a single gulp. It was good - but she didn't have the taste for it that Reyes did.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't wait around," Reyes continued. He sounded like he was smiling. "It's a _very_ long story. But I'd like you to meet me at the spaceport. Alone, if you don't mind.

"You look beautiful, by the way. It's almost unfair."

Sara could feel herself blushing. Damn it, he wasn't even in the _room_. "SAM - any idea what's going on here?"

"No. However, I should point out that the chip is encoded with the same security markers that accompany all of Mr. Vidal's communications. The message is definitely from him."

"Well, I suppose that's good to know."

Sara had never really doubted the message's origin. But really - meeting him at the spaceport? In the dark? _Alone_? She glared down at the bar, turning the chip over and over in her fingers.

She almost leapt out of her skin when Peebee's hand closed over her shoulder. The asari slid onto a stool beside her, grinning when she caught sight of the look on Sara's face. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it!"

Sara sighed. "I know." She glanced over her shoulder to see Scott, Liam and Gil had retreated back to the booth.

Peebee followed her gaze. "You coming back over?"

"Nope. I'm going to meet Reyes."

Peebee perked up like a puppy surprised by a treat. "So he _is_ here, huh?"

"Looks like it." Sara had already made up her mind. She stood up. "Say goodbye to the others, would you?"

"Where are you meeting him?"

Sara shrugged. "Doesn’t matter. I'll see you later."

The walk to the spaceport wasn't long. SAM put it at about twenty minutes, given Sara's typical walking speed and the lack of late-night traffic beyond the entertainment strip. It was _cold_ , though. Bitterly cold. Sara's bare arms and legs came up in goose bumps. Her breath misted in front of her. She spent the time struggling to come up with a good reason for Reyes to drag her out here in the middle of the night.

At first, she was excited. Did he have some late night adventure in mind? But anticipation quickly gave way to irritation. She was _freezing_. If this turned out to be some silly game - or worse, some overabundance of caution - Sara was going to kill him. Soon, though, she started to worry. If Reyes was in trouble - if anything had happened to him -

The empty streets were growing misty. The fog pooled around Sara's knees in clouds of chilling moisture, leaving droplets of ice water clinging to her calves. She tried to ignore it, choosing to focus on the stars above instead. They looked so _real_ , even if they were just as manufactured as the landing beacons up ahead. The beacons gleamed blue-white and otherworldly, like fragments of the Jaardan's radiance brought low. Sara's first hint of the ridge rising on her right came when the stars above began to wink out, obscured by a wall of rocky earth.

"Pathfinder," SAM said in her ear, "I must point out that if this _is_ a trap, potential ambushers would be most likely to stage their attack from the ridge above the main thoroughfare to the port. Perhaps you should conduct some reconnaissance before proceeding."

Sara had to agree. She peered into the darkness above her. She _could_ see something up there: a tall shadow, dark against the backdrop of stars - but something glinted dully at its side. For a moment, Sara regretted leaving her gun at Scott's. She crouched low, scrambling up the hillside as quickly as she could. She circled around so she could approach the figure from behind. The going was difficult, at first, but the slope of the ridge turned shallower after the first few metres. She moved quietly. She moved carefully, too, but her dress wasn't made for climbing. She hissed softly when she scraped her knee against the rock.

Eventually, her fingers found grassy earth, and she clambered up onto almost level ground. She couldn't see anything glinting anymore, but the shadow was still there; silhouetted against pseudo-stars and landing beacons like it was perched on the lip of a blue and white volcano. She wasn't sure what she was planning, really -

The outline of an omnitool flared, illuminating the figure in a wash of orange light. She heard Reyes sigh. "Where are you, Sara?"

Sara's heart leapt, clinging to her ribs like it had decided she was walking too slowly. "You're in trouble now, _Mr. Vidal_."

Reyes clearly hadn't expected her to get the drop on him. He jumped, booted feet almost leaving the ground as he spun to meet her. Reflex saw him reaching for a weapon - but he stopped himself a heartbeat later, slipping something into his pocket instead. The omnitool winked out, leaving him haloed in blue light from the port.

" _Shit_ , Sara. That's a good way to get shot."

"Are you okay?" Sara demanded. He didn't look injured, but her fears had been echoing in her skull since before she left the bar; reflecting and refracting around and over each other until she could barely think through the din. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Nothing," Reyes replied. The words came out a little jagged. "I'm fine."

"Really?" Sara wasn't sure whether she should feel relieved or angry. She was fairly certain she could feel blood trickling down her calf, but it was too dark to check. It could have just been water. "You're sure?"

"I didn't mean to scare you." Reyes beckoned to her, stretching out one hand. Sara took it. She let him draw her close, the light sweeping over her in a rising arc like blue water climbing her skin. "I wanted to surprise you." He slipped an arm around her waist. She was close enough to see him smile - and remembered she could never stay mad at him.

What would be the point?

He kissed her, kind lips brushing cold skin like he was bringing life back to her limbs. He was warmth and colour and careful quiet; everything she had always loved about him - but his movements were less calming than usual. They were staccato, somehow; weighted by some silent burden.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Reyes said firmly. He gestured down to the bottom of the ridge. There was a shuttle parked below them. "This time, I think we can do better than a storeroom."

Sara glowered at him. "If you brought me all the way out here so that you could fuck me in your shuttle, Reyes -"

"No!" He looked utterly mortified. "I promise you, Sara - the shuttle is strictly for transport. This time."

"All right." Sara flashed him a smile. "Where are we going?"

"Not far."

Sara let him lead her down the hill again, though they took the steepest parts slowly. She didn't slip this time, but Reyes caught sight of her bloodied knee partway through the descent. He pressed a careful kiss against the outside of her thigh, whispering an apology into her shivering skin. It _tickled_. Sara shrieked and swatted him away, almost sending them both into freefall down the slope - but her fingers found a lucky handhold that saved them from disaster. It only made Reyes laugh.

God, she loved him.

She'd never actually been in Reyes' shuttle before. He cared for it zealously and guarded it jealously, and while they'd never actually avoided it, the opportunity had never come up. A tiny thrill raced down Sara's spine when the door hissed open, skin stretching tight when she finally stepped inside. It was Initiative issue, so far as Sara could tell, but modified heavily after the fact. The flight console glowed orange and red when Reyes initiated the start-up sequences, bathing his face in a wash of warm colour.

Sara slipped into the co-pilot's chair. It was tall-backed and firm. It smelled faintly of leather polish. "Nice ride," she murmured.

Reyes grinned. Sara had to fight back an affectionate laugh, because he just looked so _proud_. "You've got good taste."

"In shuttles."

"That's right."

Take-off normally made Sara feel like she'd left her stomach back planet-side, but she felt none of that with Reyes. She leaned forward to watch Meridian fall away, the landing beacons fading to sparks as the stars above drew closer. Away from the spaceport, the darkness was almost complete - until they passed over the Hyperion's grounded skeleton. The whole structure glowed from within, gleaming like some colossal paper lantern lit with blue-white light. The area around it was sprinkled with illumination, too, meandering down into the valley like fairy lights marking a path; like twinkling ice-shards in the tail of a comet.

And Sara was above it all. She glanced at Reyes only to find him watching her, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He quickly looked away.

"It's beautiful," Sara said.

Reyes didn't respond.

He brought them down to land atop a ridge that overlooked the Hyperion. The air up here was even colder than that above the spaceport, and Sara found herself shivering the moment they disembarked. For a moment, she was confused.

There was nothing here; just a windswept mountaintop and leaning trees, and -

Oh.

Reyes led her to the edge of the ridge, warm hand totally enclosing hers. Sara had seen a lot of things since coming to Andromeda.

But this view was like nothing she'd laid eyes on.

From here, the Hyperion was a pale conflagration; a shimmering silver pyre atop a bed of flickering stars. The lights bled outward in winding trails, down into the valley and back towards the spaceport; out to the eastern settlements and west toward the farmlands. The lights were stars writ large and small, arranged in twirling spokes like the Hyperion itself was the centre of a sunburst. They were white-blue and soft, winking out irregularly as colonists turned in for the evening. Sara could have been standing on the edge of creation. She could have been looking down on Andromeda itself - or on the Milky Way.

She lay her head on Reyes' shoulder, wrapping her arms around herself in a bid to stop her shivering. "Why are we here, Reyes?"

"I wanted to be alone with you."

"We could be alone somewhere _warm_."

"Yes, but -" he paused, like he'd finally noticed how badly she was shivering. He wrapped her up in a bear hug. Sara slipped her arms under his jacket and around his ribs, interlocking her fingers over the curve of his spine. She could feel him breathing.

"But what?"

Reyes laughed. Maybe Sara imagined it - but he sounded a little nervous. "But I wanted you to see this. Port Meridian, in all its glory."

Sara smiled against his chest. "It's like looking down on a whole galaxy."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Reyes inhaled deeply. Sara could hear his heart beating slowly against her cheek. "It's what I see when I look at you."

Sara buried her face in his shirt. "You're being corny again," she whined.

She didn't mention how the words made her heart press close against her lungs. That crystalline soul of his was too beautiful to be real. Reyes lived a life that left little room for loveliness, but he somehow still had it in spades.

He traced his fingertip along the crest of her ear. "I can't help it," he whispered. "You make me believe in things I didn't think were possible."

Sara pressed her lips against his sternum. " _Reyes_."

"I miss you, you know - every time we're apart."

"I miss you, too."

"And whenever you come home -" He said it like _home_ wasn't a planet or a city or a building - or even a place at all. "I find myself praying that you'll stay with me forever. I'm not the kind of man that usually goes in for praying, Sara."

Sara wished that she could melt right into him. She wished that she could drag him off to the waiting shuttle and leave sense and sober reality behind. Disappearing into the sunset wasn't a future that would really suit either of them - but it was a soothing fantasy.

"Do angels _ever_ pray, Reyes?"

He froze - then gave a shocked and breathless chuckle. "That was awful."

Sara giggled too, brushing a brief kiss over the hollow of his throat. "That was payback."

It couldn't be normal to want someone so constantly - even a man as brittle and beautiful as Reyes Vidal.

Sara didn't want to wonder, so she distracted herself by moving her kiss up over his jaw; catching his lips in the gentlest caress she could manage. The world around them faded to a dark velvet blur as Reyes' hands slipped down to her waist. The lights from the port crept in at the edges of her vision, scattering diffuse stars across one side of his face.

Reyes pushed her back with two fingers against her lips. "Sara -"

"What is it?"

He fumbled around in his pocket for a moment, but Sara quickly grew impatient. She leaned in to kiss him again, settling for fingertips when he wouldn't let her by; tugging at his shirt in a wordless plea for attention. When he gave it to her, holding something out for her inspection, Sara's eyes were slow to focus. He held something small and silver in his palm. It sparkled faintly in the thready light.

Sara's blood rushed down to her toes. Her head started to spin.

"Is that…?" Sara couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe, either, but that hardly seemed worth mentioning. The rock beneath her feet was crumbling.

Reyes was offering her a ring.

"It's yours," Reyes murmured. "Nothing more, and nothing less."

"Nothing more?"

"Nothing less." He pressed his forehead to hers, steadfast but trembling; leaning in against her like his edges were disintegrating. Reyes was a man that enjoyed romantic gestures - but this was something else.

"Did you bring me up here to…" Sara couldn't finish. She couldn't say it.

It looked like Reyes couldn't say it either. "To remind you what it's like when we're alone." The palm that held the ring was trembling. His eyes were reflecting manufactured starlight. "When the Initiative can't reach you. When Kadara Port's not begging for my attention."

"I love you," Sara gasped.

How could she not? The words bubbled up between her ribs every moment she was with him - and they battered at her lungs when they were apart.

Reyes smiled, but the expression was tense. It was earnest and fragile. His hands were so warm.

"Sara Ryder - will you run away with me?"

Sara laughed. Or maybe she sobbed. "For how long?"

"Long enough for an _incredible_ honeymoon."

Sara's heart was in her throat. Her breath came out in a cracking sigh, fingers nerveless as hunks of glass as she reached out for the ring. She scooped it up from his palm and slipped the simple band onto her finger. Sensation returned in a rush of shivering awe; the silver should have been cold, but it clung to Reyes' warmth the same way Sara did.

His eyes were points of starlight. His smile reached right to her soul.

" _Yes_."

\----

They stopped by the bar on their way to pack some of Sara's things. Liam and Gil had called it a night, but Scott and Peebee were still sprawled in a corner booth. Peebee was half-draped across the table, drink sloshing as she made a particularly emphatic gesture, and Scott was wearing an expression that said he wasn't far from comatose. Peebee was the first to spot them approaching; she struggled upright, smacking Scott's shoulder until he forced his bleary eyes to focus - and he bolted up straight as well, a smug smile spreading over his face.

"Who is _that_?" His voice was full of phony shock. " _Reyes Vidal_? Still on Meridian?"

Sara glowered at him. "You knew the whole time, didn't you?"

"Maybe." Scott looked exceptionally pleased with himself. "So, Reyes. What'd she say?"

Sara felt a grin of her own beginning to broaden as she held up her left hand for inspection. Scott's eyes widened just as if he hadn't known what to expect from the beginning. His grin turned a little wobbly around the edges. "Oh my god. Sara -"

He launched himself out of the booth and caught her in a crushing hug. He fumbled around in the air beside them until he caught Reyes' collar, too, then dragged him in to join the pile. Scott laughed into Sara's hair, sniffling madly as Reyes flung his arms around them both.

Peebee leapt to her feet as well, almost jumping up onto Scott's shoulders in her eagerness to join in. "Congratulations!"

Sara's heart could have burst. That Scott was happy for her; that Peebee was happy for her; that they saw her love for Reyes and accepted, supported, _helped_ -

"I came to say goodbye," Sara murmured. Everybody hugged her tighter. "We're taking off for two weeks."

"Dry dock ends in one," Scott reminded her.

"We don't care," Reyes said quietly. He planted a brief kiss on the top of Sara's shoulder.

Scott gave a bubbly little laugh. "What do we tell Tann? He's not going to be happy."

"The truth," Reyes muttered. "She's _busy._ "

Peebee pulled a face, though Sara could barely see it over all their interlaced arms. "Eww."

Scott laughed again, head tipping back so he could stare up at the ceiling - but Sara could still see him blinking away tears. "Where are you going?"

Sara shrugged. "We'll work it out as we go."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"And if we need you?" Scott asked. He didn't sound worried, precisely - just curious. "Initiative emergency? Someone sets the Tempest on fire?"

Sara grinned. "Then you call somebody else."

Scott nodded slowly. He let her go, dragging the back of his hand over his eyes, and their huddle of bodies fell apart. He fixed his eyes on Reyes. He held out a hand.

"Welcome to the Ryder clan, Reyes Vidal. I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into."


	10. To Fly

"How about lake swimming?" Sara leaned back in her seat and folded her arms behind her head. She would have crossed her ankles up on the flight console too, but she had a feeling that might give Reyes a heart attack.

"No. Never." Reyes glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, though Sara suspected he didn't really need to watch the console readouts half so closely as he pretended. "But perhaps you could talk me into trying it."

Sara knew exactly where that particular avenue of conversation would lead - and she would be more than happy to follow it later. "But you _have_ been hiking, right?"

Reyes shrugged. "That depends on your definition. Does it count if I didn't wear all the fancy gear?"

"Yes."

"What about if it was on business?"

"Then no."

Reyes shrugged. "Well then. I haven't been hiking, either."

Sara shook her head in wonder. "If my dad knew I was with a man that had never been hiking before -"

"Do you really think it's the _hiking_ that would bother him?"

She flashed him a grin. "Well I'm not saying he'd be thrilled about the crime boss thing…"

Reyes scoffed, but he was smiling. That question flashed through Sara's mind again - _what about your parents, Reyes?_ \- but she'd seen the answering shadows in his eyes one too many times.

So she let the silence stretch.

Kadara's jagged ranges were miles below them. They looked like patterns on a tablecloth; green and amber zigzags stretched over winding blues and greys. The shuttle's display dimmers kept the sun's brightness down to a pleasant glow. It was all psychological, because the hull was double-layered with thermal insulation, but Sara swore she could feel the sunlight warming her skin. The sky was blue. The clouds were fluffy.

It was a perfect day for exploring, and Sara intended to make the most of it.

She'd blacked out twenty-four hours on her schedule. Reyes had promised to turn his omnitool off. Sara figured that last part was a little white lie - because there was no way in hell the Charlatan would take that kind of chance - but she'd be happy if he just kept up the pretence. SAM had filled Sara's omnitool with lovely navpoints; mountaintop crater lakes and sheer, sweeping canyons, and Sara had borrowed an extra jump jet from the Tempest's armoury. They were flying out beyond the northern reaches of Haarfel.

Just Sara and Reyes - and Kadara's wild beauty.

She was hard-pressed to think of anything better.

Suddenly, though, she didn't want to sit in the co-pilot's chair. She wanted to touch him.

Reyes watched her out of the corner of his eye as she moved to stand behind him, a quizzical little frown furrowing his brow. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

She leaned up against the back of his seat, smoothing her hands down over his shoulders. Reyes chuckled when she rested her chin on his head, her fingertips marking narrow paths along his sternum.

"That's a little distracting," he breathed.

"Only a little?" Sara leaned down to brush her lips over the shell of his ear. Her voice dropped to a purr. "Then I'm clearly not trying hard enough."

"Are you _trying_ to distract your pilot?" There was a smile in his voice. "Am I just that handsome, or do you just enjoy the danger?"

Sara kissed his pounding pulse point, smirking as she dragged her lips down the curve of his neck. "You can blame me if we wind up splattered all over a mountain somewhere."

That hit a nerve. He tensed beneath her, and Sara could see his indignation reflected by the flight console. "Who do you think you're talking to? No one is distracting enough to make _me_ crash a shuttle."

"Is that a challenge?"

Reyes didn't respond. He shifted in his chair instead, muttering some good-natured curse that Sara's translator didn't quite pick up.

Sara sighed contently. She didn't really want to challenge him right now. She wanted to enjoy him; to relish every moment of closeness for every minute that they had it - so she just stood there, mouthing gentle kisses into the soft skin of Reyes' neck as the Kadaran wilderness rolled away beneath them. He was monitoring the flight computer, making quick adjustments every now and then, but Sara still suspected there wasn't much he had to do.

She smoothed a gentle palm up over his throat, turning him by the chin to meet her lips - and caught him in a kiss that made his breath hitch. She was gentle and insistent; yielding and demanding. He gave a contented little moan, his eyelids fluttering closed - and Sara figured her hypothesis was more or less confirmed.

She drew back with a smile. "Do you think you can teach me?"

"What?" He blinked at her a little dazedly, amber eyes unfocused.

"To fly."

Reyes hesitated - then frowned, nose wrinkling up like a puppy. "Piloting isn't something that's learned in a single afternoon, Sara."

"I know that. But over time?"

He shrugged, turning back to the display as if he'd suddenly remembered he was meant to be flying - and paused, one hand hovering over the console. "Perhaps. When would you like to start?"

"Now."

She settled on his lap like she didn't notice his sudden interest. Her knees wouldn't fit under the flight console, so she sat with her legs canted to the side. Reyes braced her against his chest and slid his palms down over her arms. He guided her hands to the controls with a firm but gentle grip.

His breath was hot on the back of her neck. "How does it feel?"

Despite herself, Sara shivered. Part of it was his closeness. Reyes made her feel like a glacier touched by a star; melting, collapsing and combusting all at once - but part of it _was_ the danger. She was treading a line between excitement and actual fear, because Kadara's surface was an awfully long way down. One screw up - one mistake -

But Reyes' hands were steady, and the kiss he pressed to the base of her neck sent trails of warmth spiralling down her back. He wouldn't let disaster strike.

"Sara?" His voice was coloured with concern. "Are you okay?"

"It feels amazing," she whispered. Right now, she was lighter than air; buoyed by sudden freedom, and outside the pull of gravity. "What do I do?"

Reyes smiled against her ear. "This input controls forward thrust," he murmured. He guided her hand down until her fingertips grazed the console. "Do you want to go faster?"

Sara nodded.

"Press that button."

Sara felt the inertial dampeners kick in as the shuttle began to accelerate. She shivered again, and Reyes chuckled.

"Can we go higher?"

He pointed her to another input area; pressed her fingers against another set of controls. The hairs on Sara's arms were standing on end. The impromptu lesson took on an impromptu rhythm as Sara peppered him with questions, his tactile responses swift and unhesitating. Up and down; left and right - he helped her swing the shuttle's nose around until they were looking back at Kadara Port. Altitude had shrunk the city to the size of a model display, its shadow lying flat along the badlands' spine.

Sara could feel the empty space below them like the distance had a grip on her waist. Her skin was crystallized fire. Her chest was full of ice.

But Reyes' body was warm against her back. His right hand left hers, and Sara felt a moment of panic - but he only placed his palm atop her thigh, fingertips tracing lazy patterns against the seam of her pants. He whispered in her ear, and the sound sent sparking chills down her spine.

"You _do_ like the danger."

He kissed her neck again, open-mouthed and lingering. Sara tried to hold back a moan - and failed miserably. Reyes hummed in satisfaction, fingers digging deeper into her flesh.

"Distracting, isn't it?"

"That is _not_ what I was doing to you."

"But you're doing well," Reyes murmured. She could hear the laughter in his voice. "Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

Sara knew a white lie when she heard one - and was preparing to tell him so when he copied the move she'd used before. His hand left her thigh to smooth its way up over her throat; to cup her cheek and turn her towards him, her skin aflame and her eyes unseeing -

He kissed her hard enough to make the world shake - and so deeply as to stir the stars in their cradles.

Sara's composure shattered. " _Damn it_ , Reyes."

He chuckled quietly, warm breath tickling her skin. "Do you want me to take over?"

"Not. A. Chance." Reaching up to tug his hand away from her cheek, she turned back to the flight controls. She was sturdy. She was resolute. "You just point the way, baby. I'll get us there."

But she didn't complain when his hand went straight back to her thigh.


	11. Not Alone

Sara found Reyes in Tartarus, sprawled out atop his couch. For a moment, all he did was stare at her. His brow furrowed. His eyes narrowed.

But then they widened again, a slow grin spreading over his lips. “Sara!” He tried to stand up - and knocked over an empty whiskey bottle. It shattered on the floor, scattering glass in all directions. “ _Shit_.”

Sara wasn’t sure how to respond. She picked her way over to him, carefully sidestepping the glinting shards. “You okay?”

His grin returned in full force. “Better than okay,” he murmured as she joined him on the couch. His hands settled on her hips, tugging insistently. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Clearly,” Sara muttered. She wasn’t annoyed - just perplexed. “Are you drunk?”

“I’ll admit, I have been drinking.” The pressure on her hips didn’t relent until she clambered onto his lap, knees braced on either side of him. His hand skimmed up to the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He whispered his next words into her lips. “But I’m not drunk.”

Sara chuckled. “Right. What happened to the three-drink maximum?”

He pulled back slightly, mouth curving in a pout. “I’m the king of Kadara,” he told her. “I can drink as much as I want.”

“Uh huh.” Sara reached up to drag her thumb along his lip, smiling at the way it made him shiver. “I’m not saying you can’t, baby…”

“But?”

“But your head is going to hurt in the morning.”

Reyes mumbled something into her fingertips that sounded like  _I don’t care_. He gestured vaguely at the crate he referred to as his liquor cabinet. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“Nah. Someone’s got to keep a clear head.” Sara gave her hips a little wriggle. “Someone’s got to take care of you.”

“There’s no need for a designated driver, Sara.” He sucked one of her fingertips into his mouth, making her swear under her breath.

“Sure,” she said. She was well aware that her voice was a little shaky. “But a man like you needs a steady hand.”

That made him chuckle - but something about this didn’t feel right.

“Reyes?”

He nudged her fingers aside with his nose, craning forward to kiss her collarbone instead. “Mmhmm?”

“Did you do all this drinking alone?”

He shrugged, nipping gently at her throat. “Some of it. Why?”

“I don’t know -” She broke off when his teeth bit deep enough to hurt. “ _Hey_.”

“Sorry.” He soothed the bite with the flat of his tongue, then sucked the tender skin into his mouth.

“You’re killing me here, Reyes.”

He grinned into her neck. “Would you like me to stop?”

“I just -” She hooked one arm around his shoulders. Her other hand trailed gently up his spine, fingertips sliding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I don’t want to think about you drinking alone.”

For a moment, Reyes froze - but then he sighed softly. “Safer than drinking  _not_  alone.”

Sara slid sideways off his lap, settling down backwards so she was lying almost flat. She coaxed him into following with a finger hooked into his collar - and although he groaned gently, he obeyed. He nestled in beside her, cheek resting on her chest. Sara’s fingers went back to his nape. Little sighs spilled from his throat as they brushed over his skin.

“Missed you,” Reyes mumbled.

“You too,” Sara whispered. She let her head fall back so she could stare at the ceiling. If she closed her eyes, the universe narrowed down to two pleasant sensations; his weight along her body and his warmth close by her side.

“Love it when you visit,” Reyes went on. His words were slightly slurred. His breathing was beginning to slow. “Not -” he paused to yawn. “Not just the sex, although that  _is_  amazing. Just…just love you, Sara.”

Sara’s heart was so full it was about to block her airways. She wanted to respond - but she didn’t want to cut him off.

“Miss you all the time,” he sighed. “Keep… keep wondering when you’ll stay for good.”

Sara’s eyes were stinging. Her lungs felt full of fire - quickly smothered; tightly held. “Soon,” she whispered. She pressed a kiss into his hair. “Soon.”

Long moments passed in silence. Reyes fell asleep in stages, his breath tickling her neck. Sara held him all the while, fingers stroking through his hair; whispering promises to the stillness as slumber swept over him. She wasn’t tired in the slightest, but she didn’t want to move. Her last promise was for him - but it was for her, as well.

“Soon.”


	12. Allocations

Tann was droning on.

And on.

And _on_.

Sara was grateful she wasn't the only audience member, else the effort of paying attention might have whittled her down to bones. Kesh and Kandros were there too, and Addison had sent a representative whose name Sara didn't quite catch. Various lower tier officials had crowded in as well, squeezing in around Tann's desk like remora clinging to a shark.

Tann likely thought himself the shark, but most of his teeth were purely imaginary. Sara had no fear of retribution as she dozed at the back of the gathering, picking at her sleeve and fiddling with her omni-tool - but she wasn't quite so politically secure as to leave the room entirely. The director was reciting his resource allocation rationale; something that would have been a controversial discussion several months ago, but had become almost humdrum with Meridian's resource wealth at their disposal.

Sara's omni-tool buzzed. It was set to silent, but one of the administrators heard the vibration. She sent Sara a withering look over her shoulder - and Sara quickly shut down her notifications.

 

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Has the boredom killed you yet?_

_\---_

Sara didn't bother trying to hide her smile. The administrator rolled her eyes, but she turned back to give Tann's monologue her full attention. Sara wondered how long it would take for the director to wear down her ambition.

 

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Not yet, but I'm pretty sure I can feel my life expectancy dropping. Quickly. Say something interesting._

_\---_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_I'm always interesting, Sara. But it's past midnight in Kadara Port. I think I'm entitled to some rest._

_\---_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Reyes Vidal, admitting to fatigue? Are you feeling all right? Should I have Keema send a medic?_

_\---_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_May God have mercy. I fell in love with a comedian._

_\---_

Sara's cheeks felt suddenly warm. Her smile was threatening to split her cheeks. He'd said _I love you_ before, of course; breathlessly; passionately; adoringly - but it was the casual affirmations that made Sara's heart ache the most sweetly.

Kandros was taking issue with one of Tann's allocations. It sounded like the difference was about to turn into an outright argument, but Sara had no desire to step in.

 

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Might be a fight brewing here. Maybe I don't need you to keep me awake._

_\---_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Should I leave you alone, then? I have plenty to occupy my attentions here._

_\---_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Like what?_

_\---_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Whiskey. Music. That picture you sent me last week._

_\---_

Sara's cheeks were _definitely_ burning - but Tann was close to shouting now, and nobody had any attention to spare the blushing Pathfinder.

 

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Now you're just teasing me._

\---

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

 

_Does that mean you want me to stop? Messaging you, that is._

\---

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Teasing. Again._

_\---_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_You caught me, Sara. Has anyone noticed that you're blushing yet?_

_\---_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

_Don't make me come over there, Mr. Vidal. I'll wipe that smirk off your pretty face._

_\---_

_To: Sara Ryder_

_From: Reyes Vidal_

_Now you're teasing me, Sara. Don't make promises you're not going to keep._

_\---_

Sara glanced up again. The leadership was still arguing. Addison's stand-in was up in Kandros' face, wagging her finger at almost seven feet of angry turian. Tann was trying to talk over both of them at once, waving his three-fingered hands in the air like he thought he could stop a landslide with signal flags. The underlings were whispering nervously. Hesitant half-steps saw them gathering in clusters behind their respective division heads, tapping at datapads while they checked and double-checked their figures.

But Kesh made eye contact with Sara. She disengaged from the fray with a grimace, as deadpan and disparaging as the straight man sighing at the fool. She rolled her eyes at Sara - then mouthed a silent command. Sara couldn't read Krogan lips - she didn't really think that they _had_ any - but SAM was a miracle given circuits.

"She is suggesting that you leave, Pathfinder."

Sara glanced around. Apart from Kesh, no one was watching her. Hell - they looked like they'd forgotten she existed.

She keyed up one last message as she hustled back to the Tempest.

 

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Sara Ryder_

 

_Save me some of that whiskey, baby. I'm on my way over._


	13. To Be Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst prompt - warning! :)
> 
> This one is set BEFORE The Fisher's Lure, in the aftermath of High Noon.

_No. I can't do this, Reyes._

The syllables have been echoing in the back of Reyes' skull for hours, but he doesn't hear the meaning anymore. They're nonsense, really, but they're persistent. They're a wordless, reverberating call. He's heard men claim that the destined hear drumming.

So maybe that's what this is.

There's a cut across his palm, just barely scabbing over. Reyes rubs at it absently as he listens to Keema talk. She's pouring him a drink, voice flowing as easily as the liquor.

"Stars, Reyes. I almost can't believe it's over."

Reyes doesn't respond. Now that they're safe in her apartment, secluded and secure, the fatigue's really starting to set in. The soft lights cut right through him, and Reyes can see stars behind his eyes. Keema notices the blood when she hands him his glass.

"That looks deep." She winces. "There's some….what do you call it? In the cabinet by the stairs."

"Medi-gel," Reyes tells her. His own words sound like nonsense too, but Keema seems to understand him.

"Yes. That. Should I fetch some?"

Reyes shakes his head. Relentless friction has reopened the wound, but the sight of his own blood doesn't scare him. He's more annoyed about the tear in his glove than the tear in his flesh.

Keema shrugs. She settles on the couch beside him. "You're getting sloppy," she says dryly. "Someone get you with an omni-blade?"

"No."

The skirmish was quick, because the Collective didn't fuck around - and Reyes had stayed well clear of the thickest fighting. The gash in his hand isn't thanks to a blade.

It's stupid, really. He stumbled into a jagged rock. He used his hand to brace himself.

Because Sara had pushed him away.

_I'll see you back at the port. Or I'll… I'll call you._

She hasn't yet, which isn't really surprising - and Reyes isn't sure she ever will.

Shit. He shouldn't feel like this, because he _won_. He doesn't want this evening to be about what he's lost, but he's just so _tired_ \- or then again, maybe he's not. He'd pin it on plain old hopelessness, but bleak futures are the kind that Reyes knows most intimately. He knows exactly what this feeling is. It's cold fire burning a hole in his chest. It's vacuum-ice pulling at his insides. He's in love with her.

And she isn't coming back.

Keema's eyes narrow. "Reyes?"

"It was an ordinary knife," he muttered. "I'm fine."

The angara shrugs. "Don't bleed all over the furniture, please." Her expression turns wicked. "I'm a woman with power, now."

Maybe she thinks she's being charming. Reyes forces a smile, but he can't stop his eyes from sliding right past her; slipping out of focus as he stares at a spot on the wall. The angaran architecture's all smooth curves and pale stone. It's like looking at white noise or hard-packed snow, all bathed in cool light from the sconces. If he blocks out the alien design, it could pass for some high-rise retreat. He can imagine himself living in a place like this.

He can imagine Sara in it, too; sitting at the table, sleepy and disheveled; fingers tapping her coffee mug as shorthand for hello. Sara on the couch, smiling as she beckons him closer. Sara on the tiled floor, curled up against his knees.

It's pure fantasy, of course. It's madness.

Reyes feels so empty.

"A toast," Keema says.

How could he forget? He _won._

Reyes looks down at his hands. They're steady, but he can still feel the vibrations running through him. They're rattling his skeleton, and they're clawing at his throat. He's both lighter than air and heavier; weighed down and strangled by a pressure he can't find.

She's not going to call.

Keema frowns. She hasn't raised her glass yet. "Kadara's yours now, Reyes."

Keema's not an idiot. She can see the hair-thin cracks he's treading. She's trying to nudge him back to the side that lines her pockets - but she's not the sort of woman that lets a wound fester.

"You haven't heard from the Pathfinder."

"No." He says it as calmly as he can, but the word's as acrid as Kadara's water.

_I can't do this, Reyes._

"Are you all right?"

He shrugs. "I will be." Sara built him up like a tower made of twisted glass, and it's his own damn fault he's broken. "I don't deserve to be loved, Keema."

He says it with a shrug and a weary smile, because that's all he can ever do. A man like him can't sob or scream; can't ever show a sliver of the negative space inside him. He finishes it with a wink, and that's enough to ease the worry lines creasing Keema's brow.

"A toast," she says again. Whiskey sloshes as she raises her glass. "To the new king of Kadara."

The swirling liquor catches the light. Reyes hefts his glass too, and it's like a sunbeam searing his eyes.

The words are still echoing in his skull.

"To winning."


	14. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up

Sara woke up slowly. Thin strips of sunlight were sneaking in under the blinds, the reedy tendrils of energy and warmth poking and prodding her awake. She groaned quietly, twisting around beneath the blankets in an effort to stretch out her limbs.

Beside her, Reyes groaned, irritable and low. “Sara -”

“Sorry.”

Sara rolled over to face him. She was still in that slow and rasping semi-reality that was somehow both stiff and gooey all at once - and when she leaned in to kiss him, she discovered her aim was suffering. Her lips found his chin instead of his mouth, and she laughed against his stubble as he sighed.

“…back to sleep,” Reyes grumbled, apparently unaware he’d only muttered half a sentence. He dragged a hand over his eyes, pushing his hair back from his forehead.

Sara didn’t really respond. She gave a wordless little whine, instead, and this time she did find his lips. She peppered him with kisses, anchoring herself by throwing her arm across his chest.

“Sara -” He hummed into her lips, wriggling around beneath her as he tried to work the kinks out of his back. The hum turned upwards at the end; blissful and relaxed, even as he made half-hearted attempts to throw her off.

“Love you,” Sara whispered. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and pulled - just lightly - as her hand came up to tangle in his hair.

Reyes sighed happily. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her as close as he possibly could.

“…back to sleep.”


	15. Atmosphere

“Can you see anything?”

Sara wasn’t whispering; she held her borrowed comm to her lips and  _breathed_ the words into the mic. Although scampering around on her hands and knees had never been her favourite pastime, the solid mezzanine banister in front of her was shaping up to be decent cover. It wouldn’t do anything to disguise the sound of her voice, though; the warehouse’s high ceilings and cavernous corners bounced sound around like ricocheted bullets. If the two outlaws on the lower level heard her, she was in for a very long night.

“No.” Reyes’ answer came through the receiver behind her ear. He was quiet, too. “I’m going to check the basement.”

Safe from Reyes’ observation as well as the mercenaries’, Sara rolled her eyes. “How? They’re standing right in front of the door.”

As if on cue, one of the mercs glanced up towards her hiding spot. Sara froze – and after a moment, his absent-minded gaze drifted away. Thank god for shitty scavenged lighting.

“You’re going to create a distraction, aren’t you?” Even in the comm-distorted whisper, Sara could hear Reyes grinning - right down to that mischievous quirk of his brow. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Weird,” Sara hissed. “I thought I was here to watch your back.”

“We all make mistakes, I suppose.”

“I still think the Charlatan should have  _lackeys_  for shit like this.”

Reyes was clearly suppressing a chuckle, but Sara didn’t see what was so funny. “I save the lackeys for Collective business,” he murmured. “The good stuff, I save for  _me_.”

“Apparently,” SAM said in Sara’s ear, “he also saves those things for you.”

“You’re telling me.” Still, it made Sara smile. She thumbed the button on the comm again. “All right. One Pathfinder distraction coming up. You see the goods, you grab them and run. No unnecessary snooping around, okay?”

“There’s no such thing as  _unnecessary_  snooping, Pathfinder.”

“Going now.”

Standing a little straighter – stooping, rather than crouching – Sara made a move towards the stairs at the rear of the building. No one appeared to notice.

So she stomped her feet on the metal floor.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Probably nothing.”

Sara sighed. “ _Shit_ ,” she stage-whispered. The curse bounced back at her from the ceiling –

And  _that_  got a reaction. “Let’s check it out.”

Sara listened to the mercenaries’ footfalls as they hurried across the lower level, making for the bottom of the stairs. It wasn’t easy to be sure, but it sounded as if they were both headed to investigate. It was going to take some time; the warehouse was on the roomy side of huge, and the stairs weren’t an easy climb. Moving quietly now, Sara crept back to peer over the railing – just in time to spot Reyes slipping through the door to the sub-level.

“Great job, Ryder. Your talents are wasted on that exploration shtick.”

A smile was tugging at Sara’s lips, but she stayed focused on those footfalls. “Do you see it?”

“I’m going to need a moment. When I do find it, we should head to H-047c. I hear there’s a restaurant there now.”

“Seriously?”

“Great food. No atmosphere.”

Sara took a moment to stare at her comm in disbelief. “There’s a time and a place for dad jokes. This is not the time, and it has  _never been_ -“

“Found it!” He sounded immeasurably pleased with himself.

Sara turned around -

Just as the first mercenary reached the top of the stairs. He gaped at her across the mezzanine, mandibles hanging uselessly. His salarian companion almost knocked him sprawling as he struggled to get a look at the spectacle himself.

“Is that the  _Pathfinder_?”

Sara gave them a cheery wave – and vaulted over the railing.

Her jump jet slowed her fall just enough to leave the impact rattling the floor, but she didn’t wait around to relish the mercs’ astonishment; she bolted for the exit instead. The tin sheet she’d left outside was still there, so Sara snatched it up as she passed. Harried shouts and pounding feet assured her she was followed.

It would have been easy to make her escape right then. The warehouse was built on one of Kadara’s remote ridgetops, and the ground fell away only a few feet from the door. Pale grass gave way to crumbling rock, then swept downwards in a deepening arc. The setting sun spilled ochre light across the scene like fiery tendrils reaching skyward. It was the kind of hillside just begging to be tumbled down; to be sledded; skied; surrendered to –

But Sara waited. She was beginning to wonder if she needed another plan when Reyes came through on the comm.

“Can I come out?”

“Depends. Can it survive a rough ride?”

Reyes hesitated. He  _actually_  hesitated – and the sound of rustling clothing came through the connection. “It can now.”

“Then hurry!”

The mercs gave another shout from inside the building – real alarm, this time, with more than a hint of anger – and a door slammed. A heartbeat later, Reyes barrelled through the exit, arms wrapped tight around his bundled jacket. He paused when he reached Sara’s side, panting breaths echoed by the comm. He looked at her; looked at the drop –

“Really?”

“Really.”

He glanced at the bundle in his arms. “If we break this –“

“I know.” Sara hefted the metal sheet, then laid it flat on the lip of the slope. “Death. Doom. Destruction. Are you ready?”

Reyes swallowed visibly. His gaze dropped to his burden one final time.

“Let’s do it.” Carefully, he clambered down to sit in front of her on the improvised sled. “You know,” he croaked as she hooked her arms around his ribs, “it would be  _highly_  embarrassing to die like this.”

“Maybe,” Sara whispered in his ear. “But we’d have one hell of a eulogy.”

And with that, she pushed them off the edge.

G-force training had nothing on this. There was a moment of stillness right after they left the flat; when time seemed to  _stop_ , waiting for gravity to take over – and then they were  _gone_. A metre of freefall; a sudden lurch – then teary-eyed, taut-cheeked  _speed_. It was the kind of acceleration measured in shrieks and adrenaline heartbeats; the kind of jittery joy spiked higher by the wind in her hair. Reyes was yelling something, but Sara couldn’t make out the words. She clung to him as the crags rushed past, chanting wordless delight against his cheek –

The sled hit a rock.

“Whoa!”

The obstacle sent them skyward. The metal left the ground. Sara’s ass lost contact with the sled –

And they landed in a shaky-limbed heap. Momentum had it’s way with them, of course; they tumbled head-over-heels half a dozen times before finally rolling to a stop. For a moment, they just lay there, blinking furiously at the setting sun. If Sara squinted, she could just make out two hapless mercs staring down from the top of the ridge.

Eventually, Reyes coughed. “I’m still alive.”

Sara laughed - helpless; shaky;  _delighted_. “Me too. What about the bottle?”

Reyes groaned. Sara rolled over onto her stomach, watching as he struggled to sit up. Gingerly, he peeled back the jacket he’d used to swaddle their precious cargo.

When he looked back up, he was beaming. “Still in one piece. I almost can’t believe it.”

Sara grinned right back. “What’s it worth, do you think?”

“ _This_  beauty? One truly excellent evening.” He winked, then – just like he’d done the  _last_  time they’d stolen a bottle of Mount Milgrom. “At least one, anyway. I’m willing to make it last, if you are.”

Sara couldn’t help it. Balanced on one elbow, she seized him by the collar – and dragged him down into a breathless kiss. Reyes laughed into her lips, one trembling hand sweeping his hair back from his face.

“What do you say, Pathfinder?”

The sun was at his back, but all the light was in his eyes.

“Anything, if it’s with you.”


End file.
